


Fifty Shades of Cas

by insominia



Series: I don't understand that reference [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Play, Fifty Shades of Grey Bashing, Frottage, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Restraints, Sam Winchester is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: Castiel asked Dean to show him what 'Fifty Shades of Grey' meant. Dean has only the vaguest idea what those excuse-for-soft-porn-in-chick-flicks are actually about but he's not one to back down from a challenge. Unfortunately for him, Castiel knows exactly what 'Fifty Shades of Grey' means and is happy to illustrate the gaps in his knowledge.





	Fifty Shades of Cas

**Author's Note:**

> So this is for everyone who read 'Chick Flick Moment' and asked for a Fifty Shades themed sequel :D

  
Cas had said everything was great, so everything was great, right? After all, when Cas and Dean had decided to make things, "official" (complete with air quotes) they had both determined the importance of honesty. They had too many years of misdirection, bottling their feelings and outright lies under their belts, on both their parts, to mess this up with their usual, _'I was trying to keep you safe,' 'you wouldn't understand,' 'this was something I needed to do,_ ' bullshit that had come between them in the past.

So, honesty.

It had been hard, for both of them, but in different ways. Cas had barely mastered social niceties anyway so had fallen into direct and blunt discussions, oversharing be damned. Naturally, Dean had struggled with the other end of the spectrum, having spent his life quashing down 'feelings' rather than allow them to show, let alone be spoken of.

" _Dean, I take it back, this is delicious_."

But Cas had said everything was great and did he really have a reason to doubt it? He'd enjoyed himself, or at least he'd seemed to. Hell, Dean had enjoyed himself, when he had managed to work through the embarrassment at least. Cas had asked for 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and Dean delivered, despite the initial cringeworthiness of it all. Granted, Dean had only the vaguest of notions as to what Fifty Shades of Grey actually was but when had that ever stopped him from throwing himself headfirst into a challenge?

" _Dean? Earth to Dean. Dean_?"

Something about books and they made some films about it with Dakota Not-Fanning and some guy who wasn't Henry Cavill but looked like that's what they were aiming for. He wasn't going to read the books and he certainly wasn't going to watch the films on his own even under the guise of 'research', but a quick search of the internet confirmed that it was some chick thing and seemed to be about introducing 'kinky stuff' into the bedroom. Dean hadn't realised handcuffs and blindfolds were apparently the height of kink but then what did he know?

" _Hey, Dean, you ok, man_?"

He hadn't really known what he was doing, but it didn't seem to matter once he had Cas spread out on his bed, his hands and feet tied down by his own ties seeing as Dean hadn't found suitable restraints from what few shops the towns around the bunker had to offer. He'd found a sleep mask at least that he'd put on Cas as a blindfold, the lavender scent had been a bonus, Cas loved lavender. It hadn't been Dean's usual kind of thing by any stretch of the imagination, but he'd gotten into it, it was hard not to when Cas arched so beautifully against Dean's touch, not knowing where it would come from, the coloured silk holding him down.

" _Dean_?!" Sam's hand shook Dean's shoulder harshly, bringing him tumbling down to reality, probably a good thing given that he was about to mentally relive a particularly erotic experience at the dinner table. Dean's eyes almost struggled to focus on the scene before him. Sam was beside him, Cas at the counter, both of them looking between him, his untouched food and each other with open concern. "You ok?" Sam asked. But Dean just shrugged and without a second glance at his full plate, he headed for his room. He could  _hear_  Sam and Cas' confusion as he did so, but he didn't turn around.

They had had a good time, right? Better than good even, hadn't it been great? Cas writhing against the bed, his skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat as Dean had reached over and traced patterns into his skin with his fingers, his tongue and at one point an ice cube which had practically disintegrated when it came into contact with Cas' heated skin.

That had been Cas' breaking point and he'd let out a ragged, " _please- Dean, please_ ," so off came the blindfold as Dean settled himself between Cas' thighs, allowing Castiel sight in time to see his boyfriend slip easily inside him. It paid to be prepared. The tenderness with which they'd rocked together, even with Cas' limited movement, belied the excitement of their foreplay games. Maybe that's what it was? Maybe Cas had expected something rougher, harder, instead of making love? He hadn't complained at the time, his cries and moans had been music to Dean's ears and when Dean had reached between them to take Cas in hand, he'd barely touched him before Cas threw his head back his eyes screwed shut tight as though to contain what grace remained to him, as though he were about to completely lose control as Dean slowed his own movements, unable to restrain himself when Cas insisted on looking so good beneath him.

When they had both come down from the stars on which they'd been floating, Dean showered Cas' neck, shoulders, chest, cheeks, anywhere he could reach in gentle kisses, loosening the ties, whispering endearments against flushed skin.

" _You're perfect, angel_."

" _You're everything to me_."

Was that it? Maybe Cas hadn't wanted to hear such things, maybe he hadn't wanted such tenderness? Dean wasn't good at that kind of sentiment, maybe he'd sounded insincere? 

Cas had pulled against the ties harder than Dean had expected, his wrists were chafed red from the pressure so Dean had rubbed them gently, encouraging the circulation, kissing each of Cas' fingertips as though each of them was a holy icon. Maybe he'd been hurt by the impromptu restraints?

It was the, " _that was not what I expected_ ," that had started all of this. Muttered by Cas, almost thoughtfully as he pulled himself onto Dean's chest, nuzzling his cheek against bare skin, revelling in the closeness. And he hadn't mentioned it since. None of it, it might as well have not happened, Cas hadn't referred to it at all. After their 'chick flick moment' Cas had gushed for days about how perfect it had been, his eyes glazing over as he obliviously told a devastatingly obviously uncomfortable Sam about how Dean had danced with him and kissed him under exploding stars while violins played. This time, the only thing Cas had said on the matter was, " _that was not what I expected._ "

This was why Dean didn't put himself out there with the displays of affection or the whole demonstrations thing. Cas had hated it and now Dean was left embarrassed and lonely in the aftermath, cringing that he had even thought he could do something like this for his boyfriend.

There was a harsh knock at the door. "Dean?"   
Speak of the devil.

Dean lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Cas knocked again, he knew Dean was in there, of course, he did, how exactly did Dean expect to hide from him when they lived in such close quarters?

“Dean?” Cas rasped, muffled by the door between them.

With a heavy sigh, Dean rolled off the bed, and called, “yeah?” in what he hoped was his most abrasive ‘ _piss off_ ’ voice, but it didn’t matter. He could have told Cas to leave forever and it wouldn't have made a difference, one way or another, Cas was coming in.

Dean kept his eyes ahead, deliberately not looking at the angel. He didn't want to look at him and he didn't need to to know how Cas was looking at him. Confusion, a little bit of fear, there would probably have been some hurt there that Dean hadn’t told him what was wrong, but whatever, he could deal with it, this was his fault.

“Dean,” Cas said, softly, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“’m fine, Cas, it’s fine.”

Cas reached into Dean’s lap and took his hand in his own, and he gently pulled Dean onto his shoulder. Dean didn’t want to move, He didn’t want to be comforted, but he went anyway, he could never resist Cas and he fell against the angel’s shoulder willingly.

Cas didn’t ask. He probably knew better by now than to ask outright what the matter was. Dean would either tell him or he wouldn’t, there was nothing to be gained by pestering him over it.

“I’m sorry,” Dean breathed, eventually, making a deliberate effort to do the whole honesty thing that they’d committed too, even if Cas didn’t feel the same, a small voice muttered in his mind, but he pushed that thought aside in favour of leaning into Cas’ embrace. “I guess you weren’t into it, huh?”

Cas frowned, “into what?”

“Y’know,” Dean shifted uncomfortably, mostly out of embarrassment, “the whole blindfold and ties thing, it was a stupid idea, I just wish you’d said something about not liking it.”

The warmth of Castiel's presence disappeared from Dean's side in an instant. But Cas hadn't gone anywhere, he dropped from the bed, settling himself between Dean's knees, forcing Dean to look at him, his blue eyes wide and earnest. 

“ _Dean_?” he gasped, as though Dean had insulted his mother, or...father...or whatever the angelic equivalent of scandalised was. “Did I give you any reason to think I did not enjoy myself?”

Dean gave a weak shrug, “I dunno, maybe, yeah, I guess?” he muttered, moving to rub his face an excuse to hide his eyes, but Cas intercepted his hand and instead let his own hand cup Dean’s cheek forcing him to maintain the eye contact. He was surprised to see that Cas looked shocked.

“Is this what’s been bothering you?” Cas asked because Dean had an annoying habit of deflecting what was really going on in his mind by bringing up another issue. But he could never lie when Cas asked him that directly, and besides, this time there was nothing to lie about, so he just nodded.

Cas exhaled deeply and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, Dean couldn’t help but lean into the gesture, “thank you for telling me, Dean,” Cas breathed, “I obviously owe you an apology, please, tell me how I led you to believe that I did not enjoy our activities the other night.”

Another shrug, “I dunno, man,” he sighed, “I mean you haven’t said anything about it except to say it wasn’t what you expected. It’s my fault, I guess,” Dean sighed, “I mean, I thought I could do something different but I-”

Whatever Dean was about to say was lost as Cas cut him off with a firm, insistent press of his lips. “Dean, you have done nothing to be held at fault for. I did this. I have made you feel like your efforts weren’t appreciated when they  _were_ ,” Cas’ eyes were so soft, Dean could barely look at them, “so appreciated.”

Dean could see Cas marshalling his thoughts, trying to make sure everything he said was exactly what he meant, not wanting to hurt Dean further by a misspoken phrase. “I’m sorry I made you feel like this, in the past you haven’t been entirely comfortable when I’ve enthused about our lovemaking,” Dean couldn’t hold back a smirk, his angel was such a dork, “and unlike our time at the hotel I didn’t feel like you wanted me to share the experience with Sam, so I haven’t said anything, even though..." an adorable shade of red tinted his cheeks, "I haven’t thought about anything else since that night. It was perfect.”

“But you said-” Dean began before his self-confidence started to recover.

“I said it wasn’t what I  _expected_ , I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

He was telling the truth, Dean realised. Cas couldn’t lie for shit, but he’d taken his hand from Dean’s face, steadying himself against Dean’s knees, deliberately keeping his breathing even, when Dean looked into his eyes he could see them dilate, the way they usually did when things were getting hot and heavy between them.

"Huh," Dean said, thoughtfully, "you really did enjoy it."

By way of response, Cas lunged forward, claiming Dean's lips harshly, as though he were actively choosing to throw away his self-control. His fingers tightened against Dean's thighs but Dean didn't mind, hooking an arm around Castiel's neck and pulling him closer, if that were even possible. Why had he been mad again? Cas was nipping at his lips now, Dean couldn't help but grin against him, which was apparently enough to break the spell as Cas leaned back on his haunches, breathless, his lips already swollen enough to look like they needed kissing better. It was too much an invitation and Dean leaned forward to reclaim him, but Cas put his hand across his chest and pushed him back firmly. Dean couldn't help but flush with pride, after all, it wasn't every day an angel of the lord almost lost control at the mere memory of time spent together. Normally, he would have pursued Cas anyway, but his moods were in danger of giving them whiplash so instead, he sank back a little on the bed, giving them a little more space, even if it was just an inch or so.

"Hey, wait...what  _were_  you expecting?" Dean asked, struck by the sudden thought and for a moment Cas looked at him, unfocused, as though he hadn't understood the question. "If not the whole handcuffs and blindfolds thing, what did you expect me to do?"

It was worth asking the question just to see Castiel's mouth open and close several times silently as he tried and failed to collect his thoughts. Eventually, he cocked his head to the side and said, with no hint of a grin, "it might be easier to show you," he hesitated, "if you would be amenable to such a thing."

Dean spread his arms open, "I'm game, you know me." Though he faltered when Cas looked like Christmas had come early. He threw himself at Dean again, giving him a comparatively chaste kiss on the lips before jumping up to his feet.

"I'll go get some things ready then, you should finish your lunch, you'll need your strength," he added with a predatory smirk, but Dean's gaze was drawn to his eyes, alight with excitement at whatever they were about to do.

Dean watched him run off, unable to suppress the chuckle that rose within him, the guy was like a puppy. Cas had said he'd need his strength but now that he didn't have the weight of their relationship crushing him from above, Dean appreciated how hungry he was and so strength or not, he was going to finish his lunch.

Sam was still in the kitchen, washing up the remains of his and Castiel's lunch. He stood a little straighter when Dean came in, watching him warily, but he seemed to relax a little when he saw that Dean was smiling. "You ok, man?" he asked, relieved when Dean retrieved his plate from the fridge and sat down to clear it.

"Yeah, m'good," Dean replied, his words muffled by food. "Sorry 'bout-"

But Sam was already waving his hand, "I don't wanna hear it, just glad you guys sorted it out."

They settled into companionable silence, Dean eating and Sam washing up before Dean cleared his throat and asked, thoughtfully, "Hey Sam, you know anything about that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff?"

Water splashed on the floor as Sam started forward into the sink, dropping the glass he'd been rinsing with a clatter and Dean thought it was worth asking the question just to see that reaction. Sam turned his face to glare at his brother over his shoulder, "Dude, what the hell?!"

With a shrug, Dean played it off, "what?"

"I swear to God, Dean if this is something you and Cas are doing that I don't want to know about-"

"Pfft!" Dean spat, literally seeing as he sprayed a mouthful of half-chewed food in the process, "No, I just saw something about it and y'know you do the whole book thing so I just thought...but whatever man, just making conversation," he turned his attention back to his lunch, if the lie didn't draw Sam in then the truth would send him running for the hills.

"It's a book trilogy, they made it into films," Sam said, after a long pause wherein he was obviously deciding whether this was a prank at his expense somehow. He turned back to the table, drying his hands on a tea towel so ragged it was a wonder it hadn't disintegrated yet.

"Yeah, something about handcuffs, whips, blindfolds, y'know kinky stuff, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "well not exactly, I mean it's supposedly about a BDSM relationship, the hero is the dominant and the heroine is his submissive." Dean started choking so suddenly and violently, Sam actually rose from his chair to make sure his brother wasn't about to die in front of him. "You alright, man?" he asked, warily as Dean gulped down a breath followed by several mouthfuls of beer.

"Yeah," he wheezed, "just uh...went down the wrong way...what were you saying?"

Sam frowned, replaying the last few moments in his head so he could remember what they had been saying, "oh yeah, so it's about a dom/sub relationship," he gave a small scoff, which Dean wasn't sure what to make of, "it's not a very good example of one, but hey, it got popular," he gave a shrug, "I guess people who don't know much about that sorta stuff thought it was alternative or something..." he trailed off thoughtfully and Dean knew that he had just a few seconds before Sam went off on one about why it might be as popular as it apparently was.

"You're serious? It's all that tie me down and spank me 'til I can't take it stuff?" Dean asked, only to be met with an epic bitch face even by his brother's standards.

"Wow," Sam scoffed, "somehow you know even less about BDSM than the average Fifty Shades reader." He returned to the sink, leaving Dean to try and slow down the thoughts racing through his mind at a million miles an hour. He shouldn't have asked, or maybe he should have, at least now he had an idea of what Cas had expected from him. Actually, that wasn't true, now he had even less idea than before and the fact that he couldn't get a handle on the many, many images that were assaulting his mind now weren't helping.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "so...if it's not about tying you down and spanking and -" Sam was looking right at him,  _play it, cool Dean, play it cool,_  "y'know stuff...what is it about?"

Looking over his shoulder at Dean, Sam was frowning so hard the lines of his forehead might have been permanently engraved there. But Dean kept his poker face on and even when Sam seemed to squint at him, as though hoping he could see exactly why they were having this conversation he just smiled patiently, until his brother sighed and said, "it's a consensual power exchange, it's mostly communication actually. It's about exploring limits, not always sexual ones either, safely with a partner you trust." He finished up what was in the sink and dried off again. As he passed Dean he paused and said, "Dean, if this has anything to do with you and Cas you know I'm going to kick your ass into next week, right?"

Dean snorted, his snarky rejoinder dying on his lips as he just shrugged and said, "well it's not, was just wondering that's all."

Sam didn't look in the least bit convinced and with a sarcastic, "uh huh," was gone. There was quiet for all of five minutes before Dean heard Sam yell from somewhere in the bunker, " _Dean, I'm going to kill you_!" Dean didn't really have any time to wonder what he'd done this time, though off the top of his head he couldn't think what it might have been, before Sam reappeared in the kitchen doorway, a sheaf of paper in his hand, sporting Epic Bitch Face #14.

"You son of a bitch," Sam snapped, slamming the paper beside Dean's plate, "I don't want to know this shit, Dean!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

" _This_ , this was pinned to your door. The door I have to pass to get to my door. Just- _Jesus_  guys I live here too, remember!" He turned on his heel, this time with greater purpose, "I'm going out. And when I get back we're just gonna pretend this didn't happen for everyone's sake."

Dean watched him go, flinching when the slam of the bunker door reverberated around him, no more enlightened as to what he'd done until his eyes fell on the pages that had been apparently pinned to his door. He'd barely read the first few lines before he realised what had set Sam off.

_Oh._

Oh dear.

What had he gotten himself into?

_Dean._

_I know it would make you incredibly uncomfortable to have this conversation in person, so I thought I would save you the embarrassment and outline what is going to happen if you are agreeable._

_Based on our conversation this morning I have outlined a "scene"_ (and Dean didn't know what that was but it was adorable that Cas was using finger quotes even when he was writing). _Given that this isn't something we have discussed it will not be particularly intense and I will only do things I know you already enjoy. If you agree you will be the "sub"_ (how could Dean's throat be so dry when Cas was being so dorky in his formality) _and I will be the "dom". You will do what I tell you when I tell you and you will not speak except to say 'yes' or 'no'._

_We will be using a stop light system of colours to determine your level of interest, if I ask you for your colour_ _you will answer Green if you are happy to continue, Yellow if you would like to slow down and/or discuss what is happening and Red if you wish to end the scene. If you become uncomfortable or want to stop for any reason, **any reason** , Dean, I trust you to say Red and I hope you trust me to take care of you properly._

_If you are interested, go to my room and kneel on the pillow provided until I get there. If you aren't you can ignore all of this and I won't bring it up again. Rest assured, you are enough for me and I would not be averse to being blindfolded and handcuffed at your mercy instead. If you are interested, you agree to the terms laid out here for this afternoon, failure to adhere to instructions will result in consequences in the form of punishments. If you enjoy it we can talk about it properly later._

_I love you._

Dean wasn't sure which emotion to show first. He was grinning at the effort Cas had put in, laughing at the fact that Sam had found and obviously read this before him, confused at what the hell Cas had in mind, embarrassed that Cas had determined he'd be the "sub" (air quotes again though - adorable), while being both intrigued and terrified at the letter's contents.

In the end, there were several things that drew Dean towards Cas' bedroom. But ultimately his desire to be close to the angel in any capacity won out against any reservations he had. Besides, he could call the whole thing off if it got too weird, assuming he'd be able to keep his natural embarrassment in check and not laugh his way through whatever Cas had planned. 

As expected Cas' room was empty save for the pillow on the floor next to the bed. Dean looked around, though for what he couldn't say before he shrugged and grumbled aloud, "oh what the hell?" He dropped to his knees on the pillow and waited.

It should have been boring. It should have been embarrassing. Any minute now Dean should be getting up, brushing himself off and laughing at himself for doing something as ridiculous as waiting for Cas on his knees. But it wasn't and he didn't. If anything, it was strangely cathartic to be there. Kneeling for a long time should have been uncomfortable but the pillow cushioned him, so aside from his jeans being tight on the bend of his knees it was easy to zone out and just wait. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd allowed himself to do nothing if he ever had. But here he was and all he had to do was wait for Cas. He didn't have to think about what happened when Cas got there, he'd have it covered, Dean didn't have to plan for or worry about anything. He could just kneel. So he stared at a spot on the floor and marvelled at how tranquil he felt.

It was almost a surprise when he heard the door click and Dean straightened where he knelt in preparation. Facing the opposite wall to the door, he didn't see Cas come in, but he could hear the shuffled steps, the click of the door to close it, the 'hm' of satisfaction Cas breathed when he saw him. He was almost confused when he heard Cas say, "colour?"

But then he remembered the words Cas had written and with a flush of embarrassment said, "green."

"Good boy," Cas said, quietly, and Dean flushed again, not so much from embarrassment this time.

Before Castiel had come in, Dean had been relaxed to the point of near serenity, but now Dean felt as though his every sense had been flicked into overdrive. He couldn't see Cas but he could hear him moving about behind him, from the shuffling it sounded like he was slipping the trench coat and suit jacket off. He wanted to turn his head and see but he kept his eyes forward, enjoying the way his skin seemed to spark in anticipation of Cas' next move. He could  _feel_  Cas' gaze upon him and he wanted to straighten up under such intense scrutiny, even if he couldn't see it.

When Cas finally approached him, he placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder and Dean was mortified to hear a small groan escape him. They hadn't even done anything yet, but Cas was stroking his shoulder, the side of his neck and whispering, "such a good boy," so Dean just closed his eyes and let the praise sink in.

Cas moved to stand before him and Dean allowed himself to look up, grinning like an idiot to see Cas smiling softly back at him. The trench coat and suit jacket were gone, not that he had any business wearing so many layers in the bunker anyway. He'd slipped his tie off, but his shirt and slacks remained, the top two buttons of his shirt were popped and Dean felt his throat run dry. Castiel really had no business looking this good. His fingers were practically itching where they rested on his thighs, but Cas hadn't said he could move yet, and he really was enjoying this whole 'not in control' thing.

"Would you like to touch me, Dean?" Cas asked, his voice several octaves lower than it had any right to be.

Dean nodded, but Cas stopped him, hooking a harsh finger under his chin, forcing him to look up, "Use your words, Dean."

_Fuck_.

When the hell did Cas learn to this shit?

"Yes, Cas," Dean said, and was rewarded immediately by a gentle stroke on his cheek.

"Colour?"

"Green."

"You can touch me anywhere you can reach," Cas said, almost lazily, as though he couldn't care less, but Dean heard the hitch of his breath when he reached out and grasped his hips and knew the effort it must be taking to sound so unaffected. Dean allowed his hands to run across Cas' hips, down the length of his legs and back up before he hooked his fingers into his ass and earned a gratifying hiss from the unsuspecting angel. His other, more physical reaction, was also noticed by Dean given that he was practically at eye level with it. Dean's lips twisted into a smirk and he almost,  _almost_  made a snarky comment, but then he caught Cas' eye and realised he didn't have to say anything to make him squirm. Instead, he let his hands run everywhere until he had what Dean thought was probably one of his better ideas.

' _You can touch me anywhere you can reach_.'

He hadn't specified with what.

So Dean let his eyes flutter closed innocently and moved his lips to gently mouth at the now prominent bulge in Cas' pants. At the first hint of contact, Cas bucked his hips back so quickly for a moment Dean wondered if he'd been hurt. But there was a firm hand cupping Dean's jaw, holding him still.

"Dean," it was a warning more than anything, "did I tell you-you could use your mouth?"

Dean flicked his eyes up to meet Cas' gaze and with a lazy smile said, "didn't say I couldn't, Cas." Dean was immensely gratified to see Cas' eyes widen for a moment, as he realised Dean was right,  _technically_. Though Dean's grin faltered when Cas smiled back at him, that couldn't be good.

He was still looking into Cas' eyes when he heard the zipper near his ear slip down, he flinched more from fright at the unexpected noise but Cas saw it and frowned.

"You wanted to use your mouth, you can use your mouth," he said, his voice low. Too low. "I want you to take me out and suck me off. Colour?"

Dean breathed in so hard he almost got head rush, but he managed to gasp out, "green," as his hands went to Castiel's waistband, making short work of removing what flimsy barriers remained between them. With Cas free, Dean let his fingers ghost over the shaft before him, but that was more for distraction than anything else, while he shifted on his knees to get comfortable. He could hear Cas' mouth open ready to say something, no doubt to berate him for not being quicker about it and so with a wicked grin, Dean took Cas into his mouth, almost to the hilt, regretting his haste a little when his eyes started to water a little from the force. He recovered quickly, the noises Cas was making above him were grounding enough, and soon he lost himself in setting a pace. Cas' hands were in his hair, his hips gently canting forward without his knowledge or permission, while a stream of praise fell from his lips.

Dean pulled out every trick he knew, alternating between slow, long licks and swirling his tongue around Cas' length, hollowing his cheeks when he wanted to hear Cas make that -  _yes that_  - noise.

_"You look so beautiful like this, Dean."_

_"You're so perfect, you know?"_

_"You do that so well. Such a good boy."_

_"You're so good for me."_

Dean closed his eyes and gave himself over to it all, feeling Cas' hands against his head, warmth rising in him flushed from Cas' praise, this was everything, he thought, swallowing Cas down without warning. In return, the only warning Dean got when Cas lose control was a ragged, "Dean," but Dean didn't remove his lips, sucking down every drop, his own arousal straining, almost painfully now, as Cas continued to rock against his mouth, breathlessly.

"So good, Dean, you did so well," Cas managed to gasp, allowing Dean to let him slip from his mouth, though his hips seemed to move forward of their own accord, seeking the warmth of Dean's mouth.

Dean smiled up at Cas, almost relieved to see that Cas was looking down at him more predatory than unfocused. Cas took a step to the side and said, clearly, despite the post orgasmic haze rocking through him, "on the bed, Dean. Colour?"

"Green," Dean breathed, jumping to his feet so quickly his knees threatened to give out. His shirt was off in a heartbeat, his fingers tugging at his own belt when Castiel's voice rang out, stern and sharp like a whip crack.

" _Dean_!" Dean stilled, instantly, "did I tell you, you could take off your clothes?"

_Crap_.

His shirt was already on the floor, he hadn't even realised he'd done it, it was instinct, he and Cas never made it to the bed with a semblance of clothes on.

"I asked you a question, Dean."

"No," Dean flushed, his eyes on the discarded shirt, almost accusingly.

"On the bed," Cas said, again, firmly, "do  _not_  remove any more clothes."

Dean slipped onto Cas' bed, his eyes focusing easily on the ceiling, Cas hadn't said he could look at him and right now he really wanted to please Cas. "Well, this is a shame," Castiel sighed, stepping towards the bed, having tidied himself up, "and you were being so good for me, Dean."

The mattress beneath Dean dipped as Cas knelt beside him, leaning in to kiss his jawline, trailing gentle kisses to his ear, "I know you can be good, Dean. You've done so well." Dean growned against Cas' words falling straight into his ear, this wasn't fair, he knew what that voice did to him at the best of times. "But I didn't tell you to touch your clothes." He reached down and grabbed at Dean's crotch, almost harshly, but Dean groaned and bucked his hips into it. "I was going to strip you off and take my time with you, but you were too impatient," Cas was whispering, popping the button on Dean's jeans, the zipper sounded obscenely loud in the quietness of the room. He brushed against Dean's length through his boxer shorts, but even that slight touch was almost electric and Dean arched his back into it. "So now you're going to ruin these boxers for me, colour?"

"Green," Dean bit out, the word broken against his ragged moans as Cas' fingers teased him through cotton.

"Good boy," Cas whispered, palming Dean roughly, shifting his weight to stop Dean bucking up into his hands, "keep still. See what impatience has gotten you? You'll take what I give you, Dean, don't move."

The groan that escaped Dean was almost pained as he let himself fall back against the softness of the mattress, trying to keep his hips still as Cas worked his painfully hard length through the soft cotton of his boxers.

As ever there was the litany of praise, " _you look so beautiful like this, Dean_."

" _I wish you could see yourself like this, you're so perfect_."

Dean screwed his eyes tight, heat coiling within him with indecent haste as Cas handled him with deliberate, rough strokes. He almost, almost cried out, Cas' name was on his lips but he hadn't been given permission to speak and he wanted to be good. But Cas knew him, even here, like this, "you can speak Dean, don't keep any of those pretty noises back."

" _Jesus, Cas,_ " Dean groaned, hearing a faint chuckle despite it all, Cas was always amused when Dean brought his family into the bedroom. But his hand never faltered and despite the barrier, there was still friction, even if it were a little rougher than Dean would have liked. He couldn't hold out, not with the taste of Cas still on his lips and the voice at his ear murmuring encouragement, while his hips strained against his own self-control, desperate to buck against Cas' hand. He surprised himself by coming silently, his body locking beneath him and his breath leaving in a sharp gasp as Cas continued to pump him, continued to praise him.

" _That's right my precious boy, you're so good for me_."

It took Dean a moment to come down from the high, his boxers were damp and uncomfortable and probably brought him back faster than usual, but he didn't care. Cas was beside him tracing his chest lightly, smiling at him.

"Wow," Dean said, eventually, managing to find his voice. Cas just laughed and moved to finally divest Dean of his clothes. His hand forced Dean's hip down again though when he moved to help.

"I can do it," Cas said, softly, stripping him easily. Then there was a washcloth, produced from somewhere and Cas was cleaning him off, tenderly. Dean just lay back and let him, this was nice, albeit a little chilly. But then Cas was pulling the bedsheets over them and offered Dean a glass of orange juice which he accepted gratefully, albeit puzzled. Even more so when Cas offered him some chocolate.

"It's important to keep your sugar levels up after a "scene"," Cas said, matter of factly and Dean almost choked on the chocolate at the air quotes. Always with the air quotes. "I want to make sure you're alright."

"Cas I'm fine," Dean grinned, "that was...that was pretty cool, I'm...thanks, thanks for that."

Castiel smiled with far greater innocence than he had any claim to given what he had just undertaken.

"I bet that never made it to the movies," Dean sniggered, lying back into the bed and pulling Cas closer beside him.

"There wasn't much of it in the books either," Cas muttered before he realised what he'd said and jerked up, waiting for Dean's reaction.

But Dean was laughing, "you read the books? Oh my God, you actually read the books, why did you even ask me what they were about, then?"

Cas frowned, "I would have thought that much was obvious."

Dean was still laughing as the two of them snuggled closer, smearing chocolate between themselves but they didn't really care. "Don't ever change, Cas," Dean murmured, rewarded again by the sheer bliss that spread on Cas' face, "seriously, don't ever change."

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like this is a series now, so if you have a pop culture reference you'd like Dean and Castiel to explore drop a comment :)


End file.
